Mnemosyne
by latelydreaming
Summary: He remembers nothing and a monster holds his past hostage. Mnemosyne–the Greek goddess of memories. (ZeroYuki, post-canon, dark themes, implied character death(s), suicidal tendencies, and an unhappy ever after…)


_**Mnemosyne**_

_latelydreaming_

**Author's Note: **Just so everyone knows, I haven't readany recent chapters of Vampire Knight…. As a matter of fact, I believe I'm a few volumes behind, so if the details don't match up, that's why. Also, this is my first and likely to be only foray into the VK fandom. Enjoy everyone!

**Warnings: **ZeroYuki, dark themes, implied character death(s), suicidal tendencies, and an unhappy ever after…

* * *

"_So tell me; what makes one person sane and another insane?"_

* * *

His eyes opened to a hazy room, air thick with the scent of leftover drugs and drinks. Minute amounts of sunlight streamed through the windows' heavy curtains, giving shape to a room wrecked by the chaos of the night before. Empty bottles were strewn across the floor, broken and tattered furniture shoved into corners, dried blood adorned the walls, and pale corpses littered the carpet. It looked like something out of a nightmare. Except he was awake. He tried to reason it out, but his head throbbed, his bones ached, and bewilderment dominated his thoughts.

"You're awake," a quiet voice stated, and he glanced toward the sound–a beautiful monster reclining almost innocently on one of the demolished couches, absentmindedly swirling a Bloody Mary in its right hand–before returning to the dead bodies in front of him.

"Don't worry about them," the thing murmured, "They aren't important."

He frowned. "Who–?"

"Are they?" it interrupted. "No one. Nothing. Insignificant. Like I said, unimportant."

"No," he answered, brow furrowed in consternation. "You."

The monster's crimson eyes widened in shock. "You don't know who I am?" Its expression contorted into something dark and indescribable momentarily, and its two deceptively frail-looking hands reached up to tangle in long, chocolate tresses. Then the demon seemed to realize its mistake, hurriedly reassembling its façade f calm. "It doesn't matter," it decided, smiling painfully, "You've got forever to remember me."

The pounding in his head increased; he groaned as the nausea overpowered him.

"What's wrong?" it demanded. If he didn't know better, he would think it was concerned.

"Smell," he ground out, and its eyes flashed with realization.

"I'll take care of it," the monster promised, reaching out with a small hand. He flinched as it gently touched his forehead. "You sleep. The scent will fade."

Against his will, his eyes slid shut and he sank into nothing.

**XXXXX**

The smallest rivulet of red escaped the creature's greedy mouth and slid down the pale expanse of skin to stain the human's dirty shirt. There it pooled, collecting on the grimy material into a blossom of color, as if a _Bloody Rose_! For a moment, a sense of familiarity overwhelmed him, but then pain flared within his mind and he winced.

Instantly, the demon's crimson-stained lips left the human's throat and its eyes met his. "Zero?" it inquired, "Does it hurt again?"

"No," he answered honestly. It didn't hurt _again_; the pain had never left. "Why do you call me that?" he asked to distract himself.

"Call you what?" The confusion in its voice seemed genuine, but that didn't mean anything.

"Zero."

The thing's thin brows drew down over large, pretty eyes, and its mouth slipped into a frown. "It's your name."

"What kind of a name is 'Nothing?'" he queried, somewhat insulted.

Its lips twitched, and its eyes held a feverish light. "Prophetic, perhaps?" The demon suggested.

He considered this. It did not bode well for him if such were true, so he easily dismissed it. The monster was made of lies.

Eventually, the creature turned back to the human and finished dining.

He forced himself to listen as the boy began to gurgle and choke, trying to catch the breath escaping him. It was a losing battle. With one last wet rattle, the human sagged to the ground, dead.

The monster dropped the rapidly cooling corpse and ran its pink tongue across pointed teeth, cleaning away the evidence of its deed. Again it appeared a harmless creature, but for the hunger glowing in its scarlet eyes. Scarlet eyes which were now turned towards him.

He felt his chest tighten, his breath stop, and his muscles tense in anticipation, but instead, the starving stare changed to an odd, searching look.

"Don't you recognize this place?" the demon asked, its low volume masking the emotion behind its tone.

"Should I?" he responded uncertainly, not understanding.

Its eyes flew to study the elegant building standing proudly behind ornate iron gates with a longing gaze.

"No," it answered finally, turning its back on both the dead student and the school and walking away into the night as he followed dutifully.

**XXXXX**

On the rare occasions the creature slept, he lay awake contemplating.

Sometimes it was silent. At those times, he watched it pensively, imagining his strong hands reaching out, wrapping around the demon's throat, and strangling it. Those were the good days.

On bad ones, the thing slept restlessly, tossing and turning and crying out, often for its brother. When that happened, he did nothing but grit his teeth and clench his fists in fury. He loathed this creature with an indescribable rage, but mention of its elder sibling filled him with a greater, more savage disgust. He despised the idea of another monster able to control him as this one did. It made him want to succumb to his own inner monster, to turn into a beast, unsheathe his claws, and rip this second being to shreds.

One demon riding his back was more than enough.

**XXXXX**

The monster hosted another party.

It didn't bring him when it went to lure its prey, but he could guess. The thing left in knee-high, pin-heeled black leather boots, fishnet stockings, a tight jean miniskirt, and a cropped lace top with its long, dark hair pulled back and its mouth smeared with blood-red lipstick. When it noticed his disgust with its attire, it merely smirked and said, "It's all in the _type _of attention you attract."

No, it wasn't difficult to imagine at all.

Hours later, he listened to the pounding music, stared at the flashing lights, saw the humans dropping like flies as the rest lazed about too drunk or too high to care, and noticed that the smirk was gone from the creature's lips and its eyes were far from happy.

But its appetite was ravenous.

**XXXXX**

"Why prophetic?" he asked, and the demon lifted a curious brow. "My name," he elaborated.

"It's your future," the thing answered dreamily, "The gift you will bestow upon those deserving.

"Nothingness," it hummed before a shadow crossed its face. "If you would only remember."

**XXXXX**

He dreamed of the dead student once. He stood in a school hallway, a gun in his hand, firing repeatedly into a crowd of fleeing humans. Screams permeated the air as the students fell one by one, little pinpricks of red swiftly growing to soak their dark uniforms. His shoulders shook with repressed hysterics; tears streamed down his face and an insane grin stretched acorss it. Insane, because it had to be. It had to be insanity forcing his finger to squeeze the trigger and murder another human. It had to be insanity urging him to laugh as he stared at the broken bodies littering the hallway. It had to be insanity causing the boy's dead eyes to look so alive, so accusing. It had to be insanity showing him a face that belonged to someone else, yet identical to his own when he glanced at his reflection in a window. It had to be insanity pulsing with the adrenaline in his blood, tricking his body into thinking he was excited. It had to be insanity rendering him unable to stop. _It had to be_.

"Aren't you going to kill me too, Zero?" a quiet voice asked, cutting through the screams like a knife and breaking into his thoughts.

He whirled; a young girl (_Eleven? Twelve?_) with long, dark hair and innocent brown eyes stood calmly behind him, seemingly oblivious to the gun aimed at her heart. His finger froze on the trigger.

She noticed his hesitation and moved forward, gingerly stepping over the corpse of a high school girl with short, honey-toned hair partially covering her face. "Well, aren't you?" the little girl asked again.

"Uh… no," he answered stupidly in an attempt to reassure them both.

That seemed to anger her. "Why not?" she demanded, "Why won't you kill me?!"

"I don't–?" Confused, he backed away, stumbling over the body of a blond man wearing glasses.

_ Teacher?_ the detached part of his mind wondered, noting the man's flashy clothes, long hair, and age.

"Kill me!" she insisted, still advancing, hands grasping for his. "Kill me! You promised!" She placed the barrel of the gun over her heart and held it there. "You _promised_."

She pressed his finger onto the trigger and he woke with the echoing shot still ringing in his ears.

**XXXXX**

_ The blood tablets weren't working. They'd never really _worked_ per se, but he'd always had the _illusion_ of being sated at the very least, even if it had been on the decline over the last few decades. Now whenever he took the pills, he remained as parched as always. He was dying of thirst; he refused human blood, and vampire blood was beneath him. He didn't want their poison in his system. He was dying of thirst, and there was nothing to drink._

_ These were his thoughts as he stalked the streets in the darkest hours of the night. He'd taken nearly his entire stash of pills that morning to no effect, and the last bottle had shattered in his grip afterward as he tried to resist the urge to go out into the city and start ripping out throats. He needed a distraction._

_ Vampire hunting was a habit from his school days. It was his duty, his hobby, his vengeance, and his life. There was no longer a formal vampire hunting association. There were pockets of resistance, but any official organization had been dissolved ages before following the massacre of the majority of the hunters. Though he'd attempted to contact the rebels once years ago, he'd stopped since they'd attacked him on sight. Any who would vouch for him had died long before. Now vampire kind carried out their own brand of "justice," and there were no more restrictions on human hunting so long as they could keep their affairs quiet. Monsters no longer hid under beds, for they ran the world. Which led back to useless tablets and stalking the streets in the darkness. Vampire hunting: his duty, his hobby, his vengeance, his life. His distraction._

_ The back roads and alleys were far too active; if the Association were still up and running, the city would have been cleared of the bloodsuckers in a night and he would have nothing to do, but they weren't so he was properly sidetracked and ash choked the air._

_ He had worked his way through most of the western quarter, slowly heading south when he felt the pureblood. The air was heavy, pressurized, and he was suffocating as his body tried to collapse on itself. His arms trembled; his legs began to fold of their own volition, but he grit his teeth and forced himself to tense. He _refused_ to bow. He served no master, human or vampire. He was _free_. And he _would not kneel_. He was going to _kill_ every last vampire in this godforsaken city. Starting with that pureblood._

_ Finding the bloodsucker was easy–it was broadcasting its presence to the entire city, demanding obeisance. During the interim of his approach, he found himself far more concerned with devising his attack as he was at the disadvantage in almost every area. A blitz attack was his best bet, but there was no force on the planet capable of destroying a pureblood in one blow. The most feasible plan was to surprise it and then fire at vital regions until his clip was empty, and even that was unlikely. And then he _saw_ the bloodsucker and all thought vanished._

_ Her hair was long again; she was dressed in frills and lace and heels and other such impracticalities and surrounded by groveling half-bloods, looking just like the Kuran princess and nothing like his memories, but he would recognize her anywhere._

Yuki_._

_ As if in slow motion, her head tilted upwards and her eyes shifted from her acolytes to him. Her mouth moved; he was too far to hear, but his eyes traced the word leaving her lips. "_Die._" And as her worshippers obeyed, she spared them no glance. He did not move as she approached, not because of the power of her presence, but because his mind remained empty of instruction._

_ "Hello, Zero," she whispered._

_ "You aren't wearing his ashes anymore," he blurted, his gaze glued to her bare neck where a locket containing the remains of a King had once rested._

_ "I am," she denied, gesturing to her clothing and hair. "You're still sane."_

_ "I'm not a ticking time bomb now," he snarled, offended that she would imply otherwise. She'd known her fiancé had removed that possibility years ago._

_ "Well, no, but it's been a long time," she murmured, abashed._

_ He didn't respond._

_ "It's good to see you again," she tried awkwardly._

_ "The feeling is not mutual," he answered, to convince himself as much as her._

_ "I was looking for you."_

_ "Why?" he asked with suspicion._

_ "I missed you," she offered, "I… I wanted you. Want you."_

_ "No."_

_ "No?"_

_ "No."_

_ "Oh," she sighed, "I didn't think so." She paused. "Well, I was still looking for you."_

_ "Why?" he repeated._

_ "I need you." His answering stare was decidedly unimpressed. "Your help, I mean," she clarified, "Not–It's just…. They say all purebloods either commit suicide or go insane eventually. And I don't… I don't want–" her voice cracked and she stopped._

_ He scowled. "After a few millennia, maybe."_

_ "Forever is too long, Zero," she replied desperately, "Forever alone is…. Artemis won't turn on her master. And I can't–Zero, I _can't_–!"_

_ "So what do you want?"_

**XXXXX**

"Come on, Zero!" the monster demanded chirpily, "We're going out!"

"Again?" he asked, voice flat.

"Yes, again," it affirmed as it flit about the room, pulling clothing from dressers and drawers and discarding them just as swiftly. "Hurry up, now…. Here, put this on." It tossed dark slacks and a white button down shirt at him before moving to the closet to dig for shoes.

"Am I supposed to ask where we're going? Or why?"

"You could, but I won't answer," the thing hummed. It noticed his failure to change clothing and frowned, "You'll find out later. Just get dressed for now. I'll change in the next room."

He hesitated a moment longer, then obediently began to change clothes. "Isn't it a bit early for you to be going places?" he called, noting the clock which indicated the time to be merely 6:03 pm.

"Yes, but I'm playing human tonight!" it responded, its voice muted by the walls between them.

This gave him pause, and suddenly his curiosity could not be ignored another second. "_Why?_"

"Well," the demon answered, appearing in the doorway as if by magic, "Since you can't remember your past, I thought we could relive it."

His gaze traveled up its body as he eyed its sensible brown boots, long black socks, pleated skirt, intricate jacket tied with a bright red ribbon at the neck, and his eyes froze. "That choker. It matches–" his hand floated to his own throat and it finished for him, smiling slightly.

"Your tattoo. Yes. It used to be a bracelet, but…. Never mind."

He tried to play off his obvious interest with a sarcastic, "What, are you cosplaying a school girl?" It seemed hurt by the show of nonchalance, combing through its newly-shortened hair with its fingers.

"I cut my hair, too. Do you like it?"

He turned away, rather than admit his approval and muttered, "If that's what you like." Then he repeated the words in his head and scowled at the implication.

The thing smiled again, far more brightly than before, and held out another dark jacket. "This is your coat. Put it on and we'll go."

He stared. "Matching uniforms? _Seriously?_"

"This is what we wore in high school!" it defended self-consciously.

He hated this devil, he reminded himself. He hated it, but… as he looked at its flustered form, all he could see was a young human girl. And he wanted her.

**XXXXX**

_ "So what do you want?"_

_ "What I want?" she repeated, taking a steadying breath, "I want to be me."_

_ "You've gone insane."_

_ "Insanity is relative," she answered, smirking bitterly, "Centuries ago it would have been insane to think a human could fly. Now they do it every day with parachutes and gliders and airplanes. Centuries ago big rocks fell faster than little rocks, the earth was the center of the universe, and if you sailed too far in one direction you'd fall off the planet. Insanity is relative. And I'm not there yet."_

_ He should leave. Or attack her. He _knew_ he should. But…. "Yet?"_

_ "I am one of the last purebloods alive. There are none left who are strong enough to oppose me. I am going to live forever. If I don't kill myself… then one day I will go insane. And I will destroy this world."_

_ "You're being melodramatic," he scoffed and her eyes darkened._

_ "Look around you Zero!" she demanded, gesturing to the remnant ash that had not yet been carried away by the breeze. "Look at what I've done! What I _do_! Tell me I'm wrong! Tell me I'm still the Yuki you remember! Tell me I'm the girl who protected humanity with you, the one who cried whenever we were forced to kill a vampire! Tell me why I killed Kaname-sama! Tell me what I fought for! Tell me who I am!" Her voice broke with the next admission. "I don't remember. Tell me who I am. I'm losing myself."_

_ He was silent a long while before conceding. "You used to care more about killing."_

_ She laughed humorlessly. "I stopped counting casualties a long time ago, Zero." She hesitated then added, "That's why I need you."_

**XXXXX**

He trailed behind it down lighted sidewalks, letting it chatter at him and trying not to think. His mouth kept slipping into a smile; he constantly had to school his features back into apathy, and he really didn't want to know why. Luckily, the creature was more than able to carry on both halves of the conversation, so all it required of him was the occasional nod of agreement.

The walk to their destination was long because they were moving slowly; it seemed to want to take its time and genuinely act like a human, as it had claimed. Gradually they made their way into the more populated region of the city, through the quiet streets of the outer residential area into the colorful shopping district. Blinding billboards flashed with advertisements and he allowed his gaze to wander. A new flavor of a popular soda. The upcoming next season of a TV show. A sale at a supermarket. Insurance coverage. A cell phone company. A sports team. A child's toy. A healthy snack. A pretty monster masquerading as a musician. Reflexively his eyes darted to his monster.

_Dammit_. Not _his_. _The_ monster. _The_ captor. _The_ killer. _The_ devil that knew too much about him. _The_ one holding his past hostage. _The_ one he would kill once he regained his memory. _Not_ his.

"Zero," it called upon noticing he had stopped, jolting him out of his thoughts. "Is something the matter?"

He blinked in surprise. "No."

It watched him a moment, fighting back a secretive grin, (and he couldn't help but feel like it knew something he didn't–something other than the obvious, that was,) then shrugged and said, "Then let's keep going. We're almost there." It hesitated before continuing on a seeming tangent, "There's this saying I've heard: The more things change, the more they stay the same." He shot it a look, questioning the relevance of this information, and it elaborated. "It's just…. A lot's changed since the last time I wore this uniform. And yet you're still so much like I remember." He wasn't sure how to respond to that, so he didn't and they remained silent until finally the creature looked up and declared, "We're here." He followed its glance and choked.

"A theater?" he asked, utterly befuddled.

It nodded cheerfully. "What kind of movie do you want to see, Zero?" it inquired expectantly.

Disbelieving, he asked, "A movie? Like some tacky teenage couple out on a date? You want to see a movie?"

The thing grew red with embarrassment, blushing like an honest-to-goodness high school girl; the multitude of reminders that this was a monster, not a person that he'd been hammering into his head all night abandoned him and he was seeing that normal, naïve human girl he wanted all over again.

"Yeah," she answered bashfully, "We were never really typical teens, but it's cliché and I thought it might be fun to be average. But if you don't want to…."

"No!" he interjected hurriedly, unable to bear her disappointment. "A movie sounds good. Was there anything in particular you wanted to watch?"

"Not really," she retorted, "I thought we could see what looked interesting. That one looks funny." She pointed.

"Funny?" he raised an eyebrow.

She ducked her head. "Well, I've never seen you laugh before…."

"Uh huh," he replied, sounding distinctly unimpressed. Her blush grew deeper at that and he had to fight back an amused smirk. "Well, let's go then," he ordered as he turned toward the ticket booth, forcing her to follow or be left behind.

He couldn't help but think that being with her like this was nice.

**XXXXX**

_"That's why I need you."_

_ "Explain," he demanded._

_ "I want you, Zero," she repeated, ignoring his order._

_ His eyes narrowed. "No," he reiterated._

_ She nodded, expecting the answer. "Tell me why not."_

_ "You haven't answered my question," he pointed out._

_ Her eyes softened. "Humor me. Why not?"_

_ "I _hate_ you," he answered, but his tone lacked conviction and she merely smiled blandly in response._

_ "But is that all you feel for me?"_

_ "_Yes_," he hissed._

_ "You haven't gotten any better at lying to yourself," she noted._

_ "Get to the point," he urged, doing his best to ignore her words. "What do you _want_ from me?"_

_ Her fingers lingered at her bare throat, her eyes drilled into his, and her tongue traced her lips with hesitance as the air grew heavy. "Zero, what would you do if you had forever? If you could never die?"_

**XXXXX**

She'd been right; the movie _had_ been funny. Stupid and silly, but funny. He'd managed to avoid laughing throughout it (much to her consternation), but still he wore a gentle smile on his face as they emerged back onto the streets afterwards.

They walked adjacent to each other, closer than strictly necessary, and allowed their arms to brush as they made their way back home. Things were peaceful and he didn't try to look any deeper than that; he didn't want to remember anything that would ruin his mood. Instead he passively listened to her babble and lost himself in the mundane.

"… and it wouldn't have killed you to laugh at least _once_; that was the whole point of the movie, after all! Well, that and because it's cliché. The whole 'dinner and a movie' thing, that is. I thought dinner would be in bad taste–" and suddenly he tensed as all the reminders, the history, the horror came rushing back, forcing him to _know_, to _acknowledge_…. _This is all a lie_. She–_It_ noticed his tension and finished quietly, "–but the movie was… fun."

"Mm," he answered noncommittally and let the silence grow between them. His pace increased as he moved ahead, faster, attempting to get _away_, to leave her–_it_ behind. It did not try to keep up. Down long roads they travelled, each turn leading to a darker, more secluded street. The emptiness of the quiet stretched, consuming everything that had been good of the evening.

It had never handled silence well. "Zero, listen, I didn't mean to–" but its words were cut off with a grunt as a shadow barreled into it, sending it into the street. Instinctively, he reached toward his shoulder, but he only grasped air. Simultaneously his–_the_ creature twisted as it hit pavement, rolling, flipping, and catching itself back on its feet, arms already grappling with the other monster attempting to leech its blood. He jerked forward, trying to interfere, to pull the monster off his (not) _his_ monster, human, devil, girl, _she is mine and you won't touch her_.

Thorns exploded. "Zero!" she screamed, even as her skirt fluttered and she seized a rod from beneath it. The thorns pulsed, amassing a tangle of writhing vines, all rushing to swallow the two monsters, and the rod extended within her hands, first into a staff, then a scythe. The blade whirled in reverse; the intruding monster's head was sent flying in an arc, separate from its body, and gradually turning to ash. The thorns continued their charge, the scythe its revolution, and her feet dug into the earth, bracing her as blade met vines. "Zero! Control yourself!" Tendrils wound about her weapon, her arms, biting into her skin, drawing blood, snaking towards her heart. Panicked and desperate, she screamed again, "_Zero_!"

The smell. The smell was making him nauseous. His throat burned, his head ached, he couldn't _think_, but he needed to… to–

**XXXXX**

_ "Zero, what would you do if you had forever? If you could never die?"_

_ Without hesitation, he answered, "Kill you."_

_ "And after that?"_

_ "Kill the rest of your kind."_

_ "And after that?"_

_ A pause._

_ "Kill myself."_

_ She smiled. "I'm glad."_

**XXXXX**

His eyes opened to a dark room, air thick with a tension he didn't understand. Moonlight streamed through open windows, giving shape to a form hovering over him, watching.

"You're awake," she breather in relief, leaning forward, hand outstretched as if to touch him. The motion was aborted almost immediately.

He groaned. "What–?"

"Happened?" she finished, allowing him to nod his affirmation before continuing. "Level- E attack. He was after my blood. You lost control. I killed him and knocked you out."

He jerked as the memories returned, the instinct to fight nearly overpowering him; she pushed him onto the ground, making soothing noises and shushing him. "Don't worry, it's okay, it's alright," she murmured reassuringly, "You're fine, it's over, you're okay." Slowly he let himself be forced back down, let her move closer, let himself believe her.

"I carried you back here afterwards. I wanted you to be someplace isolated in case you lost control again," she continued. She seemed afraid to ask the next part. "Zero, you… you don't remember anything, right? About your past?"

"No," he answered suspiciously, his tone implying the subsequent question of "_Why are you asking_?"

She replied softly, matter-of-factly, "You are going to kill me when your memories return."

He didn't deny it, and the air grew heavier, the tension in it greater.

"Well, what if you don't remember? What if you never do?" she asked, half desperate, half hopeful.

He glared. "I _will_."

"But what if you _don't_? What then?" she pressed, "What changes?"

She was too close. Her fingers clung to the thin fabric of his shirt, her shoulders hunched protectively over him, her cool breath ghosted across his face, and her lips trembled scant centimeters above his own. The air grew heavier, the tension greater as the rest of the world seemed to freeze in anticipation of his answer.

_She was too close_, and he was hanging by a thread as she moved in, as her lips brushed against his, as she inhaled his scent, as her fingers clutched tighter… and then let go, allowing her to move away.

"What changes?" she repeated.

His chest ached with the storm of emotions roiling within him. Desire. Disgust. Longing. Loathing. _What changed? If nothing ever changed, then what would change?_

"Nothing," he whispered, almost disbelieving his own answer.

The light in her eyes died and she slumped, the last vestige of hope within her crushed and scattered to the wind. "Very well." From the folds of her skirt she drew a tiny brown handgun and placed it before him. "Then I die."

**XXXXX**

_"I'm glad."_

_ He frowned. "Why?"_

_ "I'm glad you would be wise."_


End file.
